Stories in the Ink
by joelcoxriley
Summary: A strange boy once met a foolish girl. He could see stories within her drawings that no one else could. Upon noticing him watch her, Solona offers Cole a chance to draw. After all, what are friends for, if not for finding new ways to have fun? *Will be a series of random one shots.*
1. Stories in the Ink

**Hello! This is my first time writing a DA fanfic, and while this is a one shot, it is a part of a much larger story that is currently being worked on. When that time comes, the main story will be under Rileyjuline. For now, this is my practice regarding Cole, so I hope I did a fair job in nailing down his speech. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading! I only own what I own-which is Solona.**

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><p>The soft cackling and flicker of light heated the wooden tavern. The fireplace seemed to resonate with mirth, its warm air wrapping the occupants into a lulling stupor-whose drowsy effect was only seconded by ale and mead.<p>

In the far corner, Bull and his Chargers were choralling in victory. Another job had been accomplished, and as such, the tavern of Skyhold would have its very walls shaken to the core from the group's sweltering pride. A rowdy bunch, Bull's Chargers.

Sitting just beside a window, the howls of glory had almost drowned out the softly plucked strings of the bard's lute that had barely managed to reach Solona's ears. The young woman was hunched over her current table, writing utensil in hand, which was furiously maneuvering about the page, turning white various shades of black and grey. Many times she had needed to pause to dip the tip into a bottle of ink before continuing on once more.

Her object of such passion was simple, and natural, for several minutes a seed eater had come to roost upon the window sill, possibly seeking the warmth the fire emitted against the northern winds. The finch was small, black beak short and stubby, body stout and feathers ruffling to fight against the cold. Even the rays of the sun seemed to give the feathered creature no release, for its soft chirps of discomfort could be heard through the solid glass.

Solona had merely watched the creature, black eyes large and shimmering with light from the reflecting rays. It reminded her of the eyes of a Pride Demon-the eyes of such that she had known well. Far too well. But this docile creature was not a demon, no. It was her friend. A friend that was suffering, and seemed far too fragile to survive in the Frostbacks.

Yet despite the chill within the seed eater's body, the bird was alert, for a swift movement of hand from the young mage had frightened it off.

"Oh!" Solona had gasped softly, watching the bird fly off as she had allowed her cramping hand to rest, setting her tools down. At this point, it appeared as if the drawing would remain unfinished. Sighing, the mage slumped within her seat, so focused upon her cramping hand that she had failed to notice a presence from behind her person.

"The spirits like it when you put ink to paper." Solona had visibly jumped, swiveling around to face the voice as she had clutched her drawing to her chest, protective and wary despite recognizing the strange boy, "You make the images bleed onto the page from behind your eyes, filling every pore with grey. Not too black, not too white, but greying. The whispers that shape your dreams-your hopes, your fears, your pains-they like that, like being colored, molded and shaped from pen to sheet. You make them real. You give each shade and shape meaning, a fuller feeling, a greying grey that grasps at the ground to be real-realer. You make the spirits real by bringing to life the pictures behind your eyes. They are no longer looking at a picture of a picture of themselves, but rather them, without the picture of the picture, real. They want to thank you."

His voice was soft and enveloping, as the mist shrouding the mountains in which Skyhold resided. Solona had looked upon the young man, shaking her head, oceanic eyes white and black hair strangled, "Oh, Cole...Please, don't tell Cassandra! She will yell at me for wasting the ink and paper!"

The young mage had continued to fumble over what to say next, pink tongue licking a chapped lower lip, "Don't...Don't scare me like that. Please."

"I'm sorry. I won't scare you." The blonde spoke, head cocking slightly, "I won't tell Cassandra, either. She likes reading about the people Varric brings to life. You and Varric are similar."

"No we are not." The girl mumbled, still clutching her drawing to her chest, as if it were her child, "Varric is good at telling stories and talking to people. I could never tell stories."

"You both tell stories. Varric writes and talks, but he makes his stories real. You put ink on paper, and you make each line, each shade, each shape, real. Like...when you start out, you have a wound that seeped from your mind to your hand to the paper. That wound becomes a scar. So your shades, shapes and ideas are merely scars upon scars upon scars. You are helping the spirits heal, mend and soothe, bleed and scab from the ink. You help them tell their story." Cole replied, head bobbing in a rhythmic pattern as he spoke, eyes almost impossible to see through platinum strands.

"Why do I feel like you are talking about something else?" Solona questioned, frowning as her arms briefly fell lax as her eyes gazed upon her unfinished piece, scarred wrist hidden save to her.

"I am not. A dagger may be a way to let out pain, but it is still a dagger. Old whispers flow through your blood and taint the blade, taint your skin, taint the Fade red...but you are not like Erimond. You help people. You do good with what others fear." The young man with the odd hat spoke, tone gentle yet firm, trying.

The slightest upward tug to the corners of the woman's mouth birthed a soft smile, "It is good to hear that. Thank you, Cole."

"Yes." Compassion nodded briefly-once-fingers now twiddling and interlocking with one another foolishly, "I like your drawing. It is...pretty, striking, hopeful yet sad. It is very bright. I like the colors."

"Thank you, I..."Solona's smile remained upon hearing the boy speak in a slow drawl, though her lips had creased into a piercing lapse of emotion, brow furrowing in confusion as her eyes fell to her drawing before shooting towards the young man. Her blue orbs had repeated the cycle twice, resting upon the oddly dressed youth for a final time, "But...But you didn't see it?"

"I did. Yes. Each line speaks a story of its own. Together, they are your story, something you own as yours." Cole spoke, calloused fingers still intertwining with one another almost clumsily so.

A faint smile had once more graced the woman's features, Solona plucking up the courage to lay her work upon the table for all to see. Slender fingers had wrapped around the pen, the metal point once more being dipped within the black liquid as the apostate began to work once more-if gingerly and cautious.

"How do you know where to put the ink?" The young man questioned, watching almost intently, curious through blonde strands.

"I...don't know. I just try to draw in the right place. But if I don't draw right, the drawing will look wrong." Solona replied, pausing from her touching up as she looked upon the rogue, "...Do you sit? If you want, you can sit down. I could never stand for as long as you do."

After several seconds of silence, stillness, Cole has slowly moved and sat across from her, still curiously looking upon her drawing. Or passed it, "But...how would it look wrong? It is real, so how can it be wrong?"

"If I draw little sparks of lighting around the birdie, or put horns on it...or, or gave it little nug ears...it wouldn't look right. Do you see little nugs breathing dragon fire and having griffin wings and flying in the clouds when outside?" Solona asked, awaiting a response as the bard's tunes began to switch to a more softer, gentle melody.

"Yes. They are in your head, so they are right, real. There's nothing wrong about them looking right." Cole nodded, Solona pausing, trying to think on how to explain.

"But what's in my head isn't right. It's just funny pictures. A nug looks just like a nug. Do you see the same kind of nugs inside my head as you do outside?"

"But...a nug is a nug. The nugs in your head are still nugs, they are still real, just as real as the ones on the outside of your head."

"But the nugs on the outside of my head are real and make little squeally noises. Well...more real? The ones in my head are chubby, dressed as mages and...and don't squeal." Solona spoke, head beginning to hurt from their confusing conversation. Firmly she had rubbed her temples, looking upon him to see what else he would prattle on about.

"The nugs in your head would be more real if you put them on paper. I think they would like that." Cole spoke simply, the mage smiling slowly at his comment.

"I think they would too. But not today. I will have to finish this one first." Solona paused to look upon the drawing, eyes shining as an idea formed, "Would you like to draw?"

"Draw? I don't know. I never tried to draw. Is it hard?" The blonde questioned, head cocked in curiosity, the young girl laughing.

"No, it isn't hard. Fighting with a dagger is harder, I think." Solona smiled, dimples forming as she flipped her drawing over, blank slate facing up.

"Fighting with a dagger is simple. I just put the blade where it needs to be." Cole stated, looking as the mage pushed the ink canister towards him, the black liquid sloshing in the glass.

The girl had grinned, canines showing, "Not for me. I'm too clumsy with a blade. I was twiddling with a stick the other day and accidentally cut myself. I disrespected the knife." Solona laughed at herself, putting the feathered pen in his hand, his being larger than hers.

"...What do I draw?" The young man asked, eyes displaying confusion as he glanced toward the writing utensil in his hand, then to the blank paper just in front of him.

"Whatever comes to mind. Or what you see." The apostate smiled, watching curiously as she brushed some stray strands behind her shoulder, Cole making no move.

"...How do I know where to start?" Cole questioned, hand poised yet still, Solona laughing gently.

"Try to think of it as a dagger...but as a pen for drawing. The pen goes where it needs to go? But the pen tells a story instead with the ink?" Solona tried to reason, though was unsure if she was helping, "...Here...let's start by drawing something simple. Did you ever draw a bird with your hand?...Wait, nevermind. That was a dumb question."

"A...bird with my hand?" The boy was confused, the apostate gently taking the pen from his hold and planting her smaller hand upon the paper, tracing around her palm and in between her fingers, only pausing to revive the ink. Once finished, the young woman had made several additions to the make the hand appear more like a bird.

"Tada!" She grinned widely, spinning the paper towards him to show her childish masterpiece, "Now you can try!"

"Alright. I will try." Cole nodded briefly, Solona once more placing the pen within his hand, smiling, "Just trace your hand. It will be fun!"

The woman had watched eagerly, curiously as Cole had placed his hand upon the paper, following her example, the odd sensation of cold liquid and gentle metal on flesh causing him to squirm a bit.

"There you go!" Solona smiled, grin forming wide as the youth finished after some time, lifting his hand away. He had then attempted to add features such as the childish beak and feet, which had made the mage to laugh. Slowly, in the faintest of expressions, he had smiled too.

"It looks funny." The dark haired girl stifled a laugh, finding the odd proportions amusing.

"It looks real." Cole replied, setting the pen down gently, as if fearful of breaking the writing utensil before looking upon his hand, which was rimmed with black, "...There are stories on my skin...so many stories."

"Don't worry, Cole. There is ink on my hand, too." She had showed him, displaying the patterns of black upon her marked hand, "I'm glad you drew. It was fun."

"Thank you. I never tried drawing before. Thank you for helping me. But it should be the other way around..." Cole spoke, tone grateful, though waning.

"You are welcome." She grinned, blue eyes bright as a flicker of movement caught her attention towards the window, the seed eater having returned.

"Oh." Solona gasped, reaching and flipping over her paper as she continued to work upon the drawing, being careful to capture the details of the chirping creature, "Do you think the drawing looks like it, Cole?"

"Like what, Solona?" The man questioned, eyes curiously falling upon her drawing.

"The bird. Does my drawing look like the bird?" She prodded, hand cautiously at work, slowing as the project became finished, yet the blonde had remained quiet.

"I don't see a bird, Solona." Cole replied after several seconds of silence, the mage frowning at his answer.

"You don't?"

"No. I see the spirits saying 'Thank you'." The boy stated, the answer causing a small smile to grace the mage's features, "Thank you."


	2. Weeds and Mints

**Hello! Here is another short one shot. Most will be random, though several motifs will most likely keep popping up in them. I apologize if this one seems random in dialog, and I will keep practicing on Cole. I hope you enjoy!**

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><p>The licking flames heated the kitchen and charred the kettle black, water boiling within the metal rim. Perspiration had clung to Solona's brow as she awaited for the water to begin boiling, a basket full of plucked dandelions and their leaves resting upon the table. Even at these high altitudes, Solona was quite surprised the hardy little weed have even managed to germinate within the gardens. Many of the mothers had complained of the cheery flower being an eyesore amidst the beautiful trees within the garden. The young mage, however, had disagreed. She took comfort within the tiny plants, and saw them as her friends.<p>

Indeed, for the years she had lived within the Korcari Wilds, the humble dandelion had thrived, and its mere existence had aided in her survival. There was simply so much one could do with the plant-eat it raw, dry the leaves with salt, wrap smoked strips of venison within boiled leaves...there was just so much. Such a simple way at preparing a meal. And now, in Skyhold, Solona was not entirely accustomed to all the techniques of cooking. Everything just seemed far too...complex. All the hussle and bussle. She had never seen so much of it in one place before. Sometimes, she missed the stillness of the Wilds. At times, Skyhold and her walls felt too much like a Circle. It didn't entirely ease the girl's mind with the knowledge that Templars were currently present within the walls, or that the Inquisition's Commander was one. Or rather, an ex Templar.

Quietly, Solona began to hum a tune she had come to love, nurturing and gentle. _Once We Were_ was a song she dearly admired, though would never dare sing. Not in this life, or the next.

"You can sing, but will not. Why do you not sing?"

Solona had paused in her humming, taken off guard at the presence she had once more failed to realize, head turning towards the boy in stitched leathers, "I...just do not want to sing." She had peered upon the young man, now only realizing he carried a bowl of crushed mints. When did he waltz in here and manage to crush up mints without her noticing?

"You should. You would like it if you sang."

"I am not like the bard at the tavern or Varric, Cole. I draw, not sing." Solona stated, crossing her arms as if in a defensive manner.

"But you can. It would help loosen the knots. It wouldn't tear them." Cole replied, standing stiffly, bowl still in hand.

The young woman sighed, shaking her head, "Please stop. I do not want to think about it." Solona spoke, hand unconsciously drifting to pick up a dandelion, fingers caressing the petals.

Cole's eyes had drifted towards her hands, fragile, familiar yet sad, "It reminds you of home."

Upon hearing those words, a smile toyed upon the edges of the mage's features, "And where is home?"

The young man had paused, as if searching her pain for an answer, though his eyes did not leave the plant within her hands, now cut off from life, "Wherever the dandelion grows. Soft petals lick the naked flesh, core cheery, a symbol of the sun. First comes bright yellow, then white cotton with seeds. 'Make a wish. Make a wish.' Mother says, 'Make a wish then blow, blow your dreams into the skies, and the wind shall carry them to the Maker's side.'...but it never came true. The Maker did not hear my prayers. And now, I am this. The Scorn of the Maker's Chosen. Apostate, Malificar-Blood Mage. The Maker would not listen to me as a girl. He will not listen to me now."

"No. He would not." Solona assured softly, "The Chantry teaches us that Blood Mages will not have peace in this life, or the next. I did not want to become tranquil. So now, I am this."

"You miss your mother. And your father. You wanted to keep their memories safe. You didn't want to lose them. That's why you like dandelions. They are your parents. What you remember." Cole spoke, stated as his eyes moved towards her own, looking behind her eyes, for she lived in her head, "I'm sorry they took you away from them."

"I am sorry, too. Do you remember much of your parents?" Solona questioned, curious.

The odd boy looked upon her, staring for several seconds before speaking, "No."

"Oh. I am sorry."

"You shouldn't. I do not hurt. Thank you, though. You are trying to help me, but it should be the other way around."

"We are friends? Friends help each other." The girl smiled, pausing to wipe the sweat from her brow, water just beginning to boil.

"Like with you helping me where to put ink on the paper?" Cole questioned, trying to comprehend through heavy bangs.

"Yes, like that." Solona nodded in confirmation, smile turning into a grin as the young man's lips ever so faintly molded into a hesitant beam.

"Friends. Yes. I like how that feels, how when you use it, you give the word its true meaning. It is good." The rogue spoke, hat bobbing rhythmically as he spoke.

"I am glad you like that." The young woman's eyes soon fell to the plant within her hands, thoughts churning, "Cole, you hear things? See things? Like...things people like...me can't? Is...is this dandelion dead? Did it ever truly live?" Solona prodded, fumbling upon her words, tongue tied.

Cole nodded, understanding her meaning despite her wording and focused upon the plant, silent for several seconds, "It's...uh...cold, dark, damp without sunlight, lost in darkness, no food, no water, starving, drowning in the cold, still, but not still. Dying slow, yellow cheer fading, stem bent and broken, torn from an earthen home...yet a new home in hands, small, fragile, tender...warm. No fear, no sadness but...peace."

The young man had then faltered, focusing anew, "It likes the way its broken body rests in your hands, caring yet firm, like the womb it resided in down below where Old Songs sing. It is content no matter what its fate. You don't have to worry, Solona. It understands."

The woman had remained quiet, listening to what he had said, "Thank you. I know it's silly, but...I've been thinking if plants are alive, just like people. But I can't feel a heartbeat to them, and they are cold to touch, so they have no blood. But if you break the stem you can see liquid ooze out of it. Is that the plant's blood? But...hmmmm...they are kind of like...demons. Spirits, I think? If they are not like people...they must be like spirits. Because...Because spirits don't bleed, and plants don't bleed...and spirits are cold...but not rage demons...oh! Despair demons are cold!"

"...But...I am not a dandelion." Cole stated, slow, tongue twisting into a roll.

"...No...no, you are not. Either way...thank you. For helping me. Thank you for trying." She smiled gently, the knot tied too tight.

He had nodded, head bobbing slightly, "Yes. That...is what friends do? I...don't know. I hope I say it right."

"Yes, that's right. That's what friends do. Help each other. But...what are you doing with the mints?" Solona questioned, curious as her eyes focused upon the boy.

"The cats like to play." Cole stated, and upon realizing that was the only answer he was going to give, the young mage left it at that.

"There are kitties here? I didn't know that!" Solona exclaimed, the bubbling and boiling of the raging water briefly drawing her attention away from Compassion as she focused on preparing the leaves, setting the lone little weed upon the table.

Once finished, the woman had turned her attention towards the odd man, only to find the kitchen completely vacant save for herself. Looking, high and low, but finding so sign, she had simply shook her head. Gingerly did her hands once more envelope the dandelion that lay upon the wooden table, otherworldly words whorling within her mind in wonder.

"Peace..." Solona had echoed softly, that simple word ringing within her head. Odd how such a tiny thing sounded so strong. Her eyes had fallen to the vibrant core of the small plant, cheer slowly fading.

"Dandelions never lie." She had quoted, for it was something her mother had said numerous times-though for the life of her, she could not remember why-for at the time she was merely four winters.

Her mind had continued to dwell upon what Cole had said, Solona merely standing still, holding the broken creature. She did not mind. The dandelion took solace in her kindness, in her tiny hands that commanded the very Fade. In that moment, holding and caring for that simple plant had meant the world to her. For within her hand, she was allowed to relive the memories of a little girl that was meant to be anything but this. With the dandelion within her hands, she was allowed the hold the hands of her parents through a memory-however faded, yet deeply cherished.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading and supporting! I really only have two other ideas for one shots after this, but I'm open for any suggestions. Either way, thank you once more for readingfavoriting/following/reviewing! **


	3. Dandelions Never Lie

**Hello! Here is another chapter! Some may have slight Cole/Solona, but I'm sure not many will. Thank you for reading and supporting!**

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><p>"Cole?...Why are we out here?" Solona questioned, the pair in the courtyard of Skyhold. The young mage had appeared flustered at the rogue's urgency to follow him, though at this point was unsure as to why he was so urgent in a matter.<p>

"The flowers want to you to remember. A young girl's face felt alight by the summer's sun, sweltering as Mother walks to a field of dancing gold to and fro, glimmering and glistening within the gale." Cole sputtered as he spoke, the crisp wind gently blowing as the sun's rays poured upon the ground. The mountains were far from hot at this elevation, yet the magic within the ancient fortress appeared to keep the temperature rather mild in degree.

"Oh. My mother used to tell me dandelions never lie. Though I don't remember what that means. If that's what you want to help me with." The girl spoke, assuming that was what had spilled from their conversation some days ago. If not, she was at a loss.

"Your mother remembers. She would want you to. She remembers through the dandelions. You can remember through the flowers too, if you try." The young man stated, taking the time to sit just underneath the great stone walls of the battlements, several of the aforementioned flora nestled within the grasses.

"I'm not sure how to remember through a flower." Solona muttered, taking the time to sit beside him, the cool yet strong stone digging into her back in jagged chips. Her oceanic eyes had scanned the soft blue skies that were dotted with wisps of clouds, the rays of fire in the sky harming her eyes, and preventing her from looking at the heavens for too long.

Slowly, the fragile hand of the woman had outstretched towards the skies, Solona giggling softly, "It is so strange. When I look up at the sky, it looks as if the clouds are just above my head. But when I reach up, the clouds are far too high up for me to reach them. I wonder if the puffy ones feel like cotton? They always seemed soft to me."

"Like the Black City in the Fade. Yes. Always there, always so close you can almost touch it, but so far away." Cole spoke, leaning over to gingerly pluck a yellowed dandelion from the ground, Solona now watching his actions in curiosity.

"You worry that your mother doesn't love you, fret about what you could have been to your parents. You are afraid that if you think about the daughter they could have had rather than the one they remember, that they won't love you anymore. But that isn't true, Solona. Your parents love you, they miss you, and their love is in the flowers. But the knots are tied so tight that you forget, can't remember. Their love is in the dandelion, but you forget how the open yourself to their love. You can remember, remember how you did as a little girl, how they loved you then-and still love you. You just have to listen to what the flower says." The young man's voice drifted into the wind, calm and steady as the flower twirled between his thumb and pointer.

Solona's brow furrowed in concern as a frown creased her features, "How do I listen to the flower?"

"Do you love your mother and father?" Cole questioned, the girl nodding.

"Of course I do. Why?"

"Do you think your parents still love you, Solona?" The young man continued to pry, the young woman pausing in thought, brain wracking.

"I...think so? I would hope so. They haven't seen who I have become, or what I have done. They just know I am a mage, and possibly not even alive." She cleared her throat, freezing as she felt a wrapped knuckle gently press under her chin, Cole pushing her head slightly upward, body leaning forward to do so.

"Stay still." He had murmured softly, almost cooing as he raised the cheerful dandelion just under her chin, Solona confused, though stifled a laugh as the thin, finger like petals licked her flesh.

"C-Cole...th...that tickles! Maker, what are you doing?" Solona asked, laughter bubbling from her belly. It took her several seconds to notice the tiny shard of a mirror the odd boy had produced from his pocket-or she had assumed-and the reflection had turned her eyes white, for they had shown a memory she had long since forgotten.

"...Cole? Wha..." She questioned, dumbfounded, "How did you..."

"Dandelions never lie, Solona. Your mother knew that. She passed it onto you, but you forgot." Cole spoke, voice gentle, Solona's eyes enable to break away from the cheery flower turning her chin a mustard hue, even without the reflection of the sun, for the pair lay in the shade, "Now you remember what you have forgotten, hope restored and faith renewed. Your parents love you, Solona. Their love is in the dandelions. They send their love through the flowers to you. That's why there are so many dandelions here. Their love follows you and makes them grow. You never left your parents, Solona. You just forgot that you never left them. And now, you are together, connected through love. You, your parents, and the flowers, together like you all used to be."

"I...I think I see. I remember now! I remember why Mother always said that phrase! I forgot, but now...now I remember." The young mage had smiled, though it was sullen and sorrowful as much as relieved and joyful, Cole slowly beckoning the yellow weed from her chin, "But...you almost make it sound..."

She had paused, lips trembling involuntarily, "Cole...if-if they are the dandelions...are they...dead?" Solona asked, voice quavering as her eyes looked upon his through heavy bangs.

"They loved you, Solona. Still love you. That's...all that matters." Cole answered, finding himself unsure of what to say, unsure if he could make the hurt the go away.

"O...Oh. I...um...I see." The girl had frowned, clearing her throat as her face began to flush from the emotional turmoil. Cole's lips had lightly formed into a frown as he saw the mage try in vain to shield her watering eyes with her hair and hands, the floodgates breaking as she began to sob, if ever so quietly.

"I'm sorry they died." Cole apologized softly, unsure how to stop the stabbing hurts as her shoulders shook and rocked her tiny frame. Hesitantly, his hand snaked towards her own, cautious, and almost shy as their fingers lightly touched, dancing from tip to tip, flesh brushing flesh. When she did not pull away, Cole slowly wrapped his hand around hers, hoping to give her some form of comfort-if only so small.

Solona's small hand was shaking from her pain, palm drenched in sweat, though he did not release his hold. If anything, it appeared to rebuff the young man's efforts at comfort, his hand now enveloping hers firmly yet gently. For several minutes the pair had sat there, Cole patiently awaiting for her to calm, Solona's sobs subsiding, pain dulling.

Solona took the time to wipe her tears, eyes red rimmed before using her free hand to brush stray strands behind her ears, voice weak and faltering, "I...I...sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It's okay." Cole replied, the girl calming at his voice.

"Thank you, Cole. I-oh. You...you can let go of my hand now, please." The mage stammered, slowly realizing that their hands were still interlocked.

"Oh. Sorry." The boy mumbled, beckoning his hand back, Solona producing a weak smile.

"Your hand is cold. But mine is...sweaty and gross." She laughed, face now flushing more from embarrassment, though it was something the young man seemed to fail to notice, "But...thank you. Thank you for helping me remember."

"You are welcome. I am glad to help."


	4. Mittens

Hello, all! I apologize for this one shot being short, but I found it simple and sweet.

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><p>Solona smiled, walking up the stairs to the third floor of the tavern. She knew the strange boy in leathers would be in the same corner he always was, listening and observing, noticing while he himself remained unnoticed. He was always in the darkest corner, near several crates and a chest, perhaps even a tiny table.<p>

If one were not observant enough-or perhaps, if the young man did not wish to be seen-they would fail to notice his presence, several people oblivious to his mere existence. But Solona was not. She had seen his lithe form in the grasping darkness, clothes merely conjoined leathers and cloths. But more importantly, she could see him because he had wanted her to see him.

"Cole!" Solona greeted, smiling towards her odd friend as Compassion turned towards her, eyes concealed through platinum strands.

"Yes? I am here." The spirit responded, giving the young mage his attention. Or at least as much as the hurts would allow him to.

"I have something for you. They took me a while to make, but I hope you like them. They are...um...well, something I made in my spare time." Solona cleared her throat, cheeks flushed a tinge of red from embarrassment as she fiddled with something housed within a pocket. In time, her hand had pulled out knitted mittens, a dull brown in color with various patterns molded within. It was quite obvious she had taken precious care and time to make the articles of clothing, "Here...mittens."

"Mittens?" Cole questioned, studying the pair within her hand, though had made no move to take them, "I...don't understand."

"They are gifts. I...I noticed your hands were cold a while back, and I just thought...that with the cold...I-I hope I got the size right. I didn't know. I just knew they were bigger than mine. I made ear-mittens for Solas, too. I thought that since elves have such big, pointy ears it's harder to keep them warm. And since Solas has no hair to help keep his ears warm, I...just...thought..." Solona had faltered, voice dying as she realized she was rambling, nerves a wreck and throat dry. Though it appeared Cole did not notice, and was far more interested in the mittens.

"Gifts represent...emotions. Gifts mean you care. But these are real, tangible, not intangible..." The young man spoke, taking them from her hands and gingerly running a thumb over the knitted fabric, "Soft and warm, fingers stiff, wrist cramping, needles foolishly jabbed into flesh, too many sleepless nights, hands too shaky to thread the needle. What should I be doing, should I be doing this? Knitting with foolish hands a talent I don't have?...knitting means you care and cherish."

"I see the looks they give me. Solas seemed confused that someone would waste their time making such a trivial thing for his ears. I guess that is because he is used to his ears being cold, but he still showed kindness. He took them because he didn't want to upset me. The same happened with Iron Bull. I made him socks for his horns. I don't know what it's like to have horns, but they always feel cold. So I thought I could try to make them warm. I made his horn socks pink. I heard Iron Bull liked the color pink. But I know he doesn't bother wearing them. I know people see me as a foolish girl, wasting her time on small things, and maybe I am wasting my time, but I'm trying to help. Small things turn into big things. But the mark on my hand helps with big things, even though it hurts. If I focus too much on the big things, I forget how to help with the small things." The young mage spoke, exhaling deeply as her shoulders heaved.

"You help the little hurts as well as the big hurts. You are the one that can calm the spirits and dull their pain. They like listening to you. You ground them. You soothe the spirits, the whispers. Herah mends the skies." Cole replied, thumb still brushing against a knitted mitt.

Solona smiled sullenly, "Everyone helps in their own ways, I suppose. No matter how large or small. But I hope they fit. I know they aren't much in combat, but-"

"They are fine, Solona." The young man stated, mittens dawned as he found them restricting upon his fingers, limiting their natural movement. Yet, despite their flaws, they were enveloping his hands in soft cotton, "It is nice to know you care. Thank you." Cole replied, attempting to almost clumsily interlock his fingers, though had forgotten about the mittens, and thus could not.

"You're welcome, Cole. I'm glad you like them. If you want, I could patch your hat up sometime."

"What is wrong with my hat?" Cole questioned, concerned over the well being of his favored article of attire.

"I saw a few holes in it. There's a big hole on the side. I can fix those for you, but I can't fix the burnts from dragon fire." Solona commented, the blonde frowning ever so slightly.

"I don't want to ruin my hat."

"Don't worry, Cole, I'll save your hat. I will just need to get my kit...or perhaps I can borrow Krem's?" Solona paused in thought, though had pushed it from her mind, "I will be back, okay?"

"Yes." Cole nodded briefly, returning back to observing and listening from the shadows, the mittens soft against his calloused hands.

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><p>I can kind of see these two as a pairing, yet at the same time can't. I apologize if Solona is a flop of a character. I can see her mind being rather simple, so I think that's mainly why they get along so well. Either way, thank you for reading and supporting!<p> 


	5. Like Flying

Hi all! Here's another little one shot! It has more darker themes, though I'm not sure if the rating should go up. If you think it should, let me know! I hope you enjoy!

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><p>A heavy moon rose proudly over the stone fortress of Skyhold, clouds absent and air chill. The foolish girl and strange boy had sat high upon the battlements, a slab of solid stone between them. The wind was thick and heavy with tension, too many things to say, yet too little sense of how to word them. Foolish tongue tied and hair swirling around a thin finger, nibbling upon the dead ends did Solona sit, anxious and tense. The boy so close yet so far away was just as on edge, posture wooden and ridged, brooding in thought.<p>

Solona had bit her lip, trying to speak, but found her jaw clamped shut. She wanted to say something, but anything she had attempted to say within her head to speak had sounded too forced, too abrupt, too foolish. Should she say sorry? Was it the right time to say sorry? Or had that time already passed? But what was she truly sorry for? Her friend and his own closure? His safety? Or her own life?

She had dwelled within her own thoughts, plagued with vast paranoia and lack of sleep ever since the events in the Arbor Wilds-which had been three nights ago. After that, each night, every night, the pair would sit upon the battlements and simply wait-though for what, the mage did not know. Or rather, at least the girl was waiting. Waiting for Corypheus. Waiting for the end. She did not know what Cole was waiting for, or even thinking. He did not speak a word to her ever since they had reached the Well of Sorrows-yet she drank not from the well.

Solona did not understand. Her friend was ignoring her-if he even had remained her friend. At least he was tolerating her presence. Perhaps it was not a complete rejection of companionship, as she had feared.

The young girl had frowned, cerulean eyes rimmed with crystals. She could handle many things, but not this. Not the odd boy's rejection, indifference. She did not want to be an outsider to an outsider. She did not want to be abandoned by her dearest friend. The pain had wretched her heart, each pulse bringing the sharp stab of a new wave. What hurt the most was that she did not even know what she had done to distance herself from her friend.

She had tried not to look at him-had pretended he was not even there. Just her, and the cold stones. Briefly, Solona had wondered what would happen if she had slowly allowed herself to creep towards the sharp edge. To just push herself off. Would it feel like flying? Would it hurt? What would happen? It surely would be a more swift death than Corypheus would ever grant her. It was not like she was needed to close the Breach or any smaller rifts. Her mark was corrupt. All it could do was bend the will of lesser demons and open rifts. Herah was the one the Elder One wanted. She was needed far more than Solona. Even the girl's insight on what to do was rarely ever given weight-or seriousness, even though she tried her damnedest to help.

Perhaps she could see her parents again, beyond the Fade? Or perhaps not. The Chant of Light spoke that Blood Mages would not find peace in this life, or the next. Killing oneself was also a sin in the eyes of the Maker, but was it really that damnable? She was already a Blood Mage. What more was there to damn?

Solona's brows furrowed, and her face lit up in flushed rage, eyes stinging. It seemed like she was the Maker's jester. Wait for Corypheus, most likely suffer a merciless death, die damned. Just push herself off the battlements, end it swift, still die damned.

The young mage tried to wipe the tears that had now flown freely, but to no avail. Her own foolishness had led her down a dark path, and had now damned her in death. She would not see her parents, she would not go to wherever it was the spirits of morals went. She would be a simple shadow, a little whisper of a memory of a girl that was too dumb to see the risks of Blood Magic. Blood Magic had taken her life, and her death. But it could not take her dying. And Corypheus would not have her blood on his blighted talons. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of fulfilling his twisted pride.

Briefly, Solona had wondered what it was like to fly like the white cotton with brown, almost black seeds the dandelions made. For a moment, she thought she could fly too, up, up, in the sky, and go somewhere safe. Somewhere-

The young woman had gasped as she had fallen from her perch, wing rustling and limbs flailing against the pull of a force upon her stomach. She was unsure what to think, and for a second believed herself to be flying, for she had risen well over the stone she was sitting upon, suspended, legs dangling. And just as she had flown, she had come crashing down, falling backwards, knees skinning the rough stone upon the battlements' floor. She had then realized she had fallen backwards, though did not hit solid stone like she had feared-but a softer, solid mass.

"No-no, no. No, no, no, no, no, no-" Soft whispers had spoken, swift and frantic, breath strangled from the speaker, calm lost and now clammered, "Do not flit!-Do not fly!-Do not fall!"

"C-Cole?" Solona had breathed, limbs tangled in a heap, an iron grip far too tight around the belly, "C..."

"You are not a hawk! The hawk can flit, flutter, fly, but you cannot! Hawks are meant to fly, to land, not to fall, but a hawk did! You cannot fly, and so can fall! You cannot fall like the hawk did that was meant to fly!" The boy had whaled, arms shaking around the girl's waist, though the grip did not falter no matter how hard Solona had tried to squirm free.

"Cole..." The mage had struggled to speak, perplexed. She could hear Cole's frantic breathing, feeling his chest heave against her back. Stone was jaggedly pushing against his spine, though he had moved not, nor did he register the pain in his skull from the fall backwards. He had tried to save her. But the hurts were too much. Her hurts hurt him. Her hurts made him feel new hurts.

"Corypheus died...but then he-he came back. You can't come back. You won't come back." Cole murmured, voice falling softer, ragged breath in her hair, "...Do not go where I cannot follow. Please."

Solona had gone slack, earnest words echoing within her head that had caused her head to shake against his chest, tears trickling down her cheeks. She had thought wrong. For three days and their nights she had thought she had done something to ruin her friendship. She had thought he had disliked her, did not care, did not worry. But he did worry. He worried what Corypheus would do, what he would wrought. Corypheus could-would kill his friend. And he would not be able to follow.

For three nights the pair had sat high upon the battlements, waiting. Solona had thought she was waiting for Corypheus, fretting and fearing what his coming would bring: death. And in fearing death by his hand, she had sought death by her own. In believing she had been waiting for Corypheus, she had thought she had been waiting for death. In believing she had been waiting for death, she had then sought what she truly had been waiting for: a relationship she had thought ruined; a true friend, a pure love. He had just been waiting for her to realize that. Possibly silently fretting, even, if Corypheus had come first, and she had waited too long.

"I...am so sorry...I-Cole, I didn't mean to hurt you, too...I..." Solona had faltered, a gentle fall of water carving her features in the moonlight, her arms now cradling his. He was still shaking. Or maybe she was the one shaking now. She could not tell.

"I didn't think. I never think! I thought...I didn't know! I never know! I don't know, and I'm scared! I'm scared to die, but I'm scared more of Corypheus-scared of pain-of what he'll do! I'm not strong like Cassandra, I'm not brave like Blackwall, I'm not smart like Solas, I'm not skilled like Dorian or Vivienne-I couldn't even take the Harrowing!" The young woman had spoke, pain spilling forth, "I...I just want my Moma and Popa! I wanted them to be proud! I wanted them to see me get married, to see their grandchildren-someday. I...I wanted to see them, find them. Wanted to see them, but I was scared! But how can they be proud of a mage? How can they love a Blood Mage? They can't-all because they're dead, and I can't see them! The Maker won't let me! It says so! It say so in the Chant of Light! The Maker took them away so I can be tormented because of what I am!"

The woman had paused for breath, breathing ragged and throat course. She was screaming. She was crying and screaming, and she did not even realize it. She didn't even realize her vice like grip had now tightened around the boy's own hold of her waist. Solona had felt the tears sting and burn, blurring her vision, yet the flushing heat she had felt from her cheeks were far hotter than any dragon's fire, "Everyday I hear the soldiers speak the Chant of Light. They spit on the ground every time there is mention of maleficarum, spit out the word like it is venom, say those that use it are damned. And maybe we are, maybe I am, maybe that is why I have this mark. But what if we are trying to do good? What if we realized we made mistakes and want to help? Does that mean anything? Is this a test of some kind? Will the Maker let me see my parents when I die as a reward? Can the Maker forgive blood mages? I...I thought it didn't matter. I thought that no matter how I die, I would be cursed, and not able to see my parents. I was scared of what Corypheus would do...so I thought...falling...I thought what more could I do to sin? It's just one more sin...but I didn't know. I didn't even know I was hurting you, Cole! I-I didn't even think-"

Solona had suddenly fallen silence, lips sewn shut, body shaking and head buried into the youth's chest, ashamed and hiding, "...I never want to be selfish again. I never want to hurt anyone like that. Not you..."

"Shhhhh...it's alright. You didn't know." The blonde murmured gently, trying to sooth and heal, the mage shaking her head.

"No. No, it isn't. I can never be selfish again. When the Elder One comes...I won't run, no matter how scared I am. I want to try and be brave, and strong. I want to show all of Thedas that they are wrong. I want to show them that Blood Magic can be good, even if it is just a little bit of help." The woman had paused, "Thank you. Thank you for being a true friend."

"Yes. I like being your friend." Cole replied, back sore from being awkwardly pinned against the stone wall, though did not move.

Solona smiled, "Oh...Cole?"

"Yes?"

"...I'm sorry for being scared."

"That is alright."

"...and for scaring you, too."

"You are safe now."

"...and for being a bad friend."

"I don't think you are a bad friend. I like being friends with you."

"Oh. Well..." Solona had paused, unsure what to say. She had wanted to move, but her body had felt like she were covered in heavy armor-most likely from her emotional and mental turmoil. The mage had felt much better, now. She simply felt tired, though through her haze she had gazed upon the stars, wondering what Corypheus would do to them if he won. Would he be able to touch them simply by outstretching his hand? When she tried, she could never touch anything. The stars and clouds were too far away, even then they appeared to be just above her head.

"...Solona?"

"Yes?" The girl questioned, alerting upon hearing the soft voice of her friend, "Do you want to get up?"

"No...I just don't like Corypheus."

"Oh. Well, neither do I. His face gives me a headache when I look at it."

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><p>Well, what do you think? If you have any suggestions on what the next chapter should be, let me know. Thank you for reading and supporting! I'm glad people seem to like this little project.<p> 


	6. Illness

Hi, all! Here's another short one shot. I will try to write one for Valentine's Day as well, though I might be too busy around that time. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

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><p>Solona groaned, a mere lump under a twisted and chaotic mass of comforters, pillows strewn about onto the floor. The young mage slowly opened her eyes, lids heavy and skin plastered in sweat. Her vision blurred, and the woman attempted to clear her sight by rubbing a knuckle against her closed eyes.<p>

Slowly she had sat up, kicking the furred covers off of her person, nightgown drenched in sweat as goosebumps immediately began to form upon her skin. It was a constant, endless cycle. Fist she was hot, then she was cold, then hot, then cold. She felt ill, sick and disgusting as she wiped the excess drool from her jaw left agape during a deep slumber, saliva staining the pillow and even her bare shoulder.

Licking her chapped lips, Solona got out of bed and stood, legs wobbling and body swaying. However, the vertigo from her fever held a strong hold over her, and she had ungracefully sat down upon her bed, the room spinning as if she were shrouded in mist.

"Hhhgggn...thirsty." She rasped, throat dry and sore, head pounding as she didn't have the strength to rise again. All her body wanted was to fall back into a deep sleep until the fever broke.

'Maybe...this is what it feels like to die...I feel terrible enough...' Solona thought, mind reeling to make sense of the matter, 'I bet...thing...the...the Qunari...never eat cake. Or...get sick.'

Heaving ill breath from her lungs, the mage fell back upon her bed in an exhausted heap, staring unfocused at the ceiling. Her tongue had swirled around within it's dark home, tissue dry and pained as Solona had attempted to clear her throat of clumping mucus. The mage had then coughed, rough and jagged heaves that stung her chest as she swallowed the phlegm, stomach quivering.

Feeling as if poison were in her belly, Solona moaned in discomfort, closing her tired eyes, though was afraid if she had surcumbed to sleep she would never wake. Resting her heavy lids, though trying to fight off sleep, she had then felt a hand caress her forehead-cool and gentle.

At first, Solona did not bother to open her eyes, for sweat would surely render her sight poor if she did. Through the haze of fatigue and illness, she had thought that she had raised her own hand to wipe the film of perspiration from her brow. Struggling her mind to awaken, it was then she had noticed that the hand was not of her own, for both arms were heavy and felt laden with weights.

Solona opened her bloodshot eyes, blurry gaze slowly focusing upon the blonde before her. At first, she did not register who the odd man in leathers was, or how he had even managed to slip into her chambers, but here he was. Touching her heated body with a chilled hand.

The young woman had opened her mouth to speak, to try and say something, though found her throat too parched, cool hand leaving her brow, "Shhhhh."

The blood mage was perplexed and dumbfounded as Cole had briefly leaned over her to snake an arm around the small of her back, the man helping her into a sitting position. It was then she realized that in his free hand he had carried a cup of water, "Here."

She had stared upon the offering for several seconds, a feminine hand rising to grasp the wooden cup before placing her dry lips upon the brim, sips slow before gaining in greed. Stray droplets had run down chin and neck, and even after the cup had run dry, her thirst was not quenched, and only seemed to grow.

"Thank...you." Solona had smiled, breathing deeply as she set the object upon a nearby table, stomach rumbling in disturbance.

"It's okay. You don't have to worry." Cole murmured, taking a damp cloth and gingerly wiping her brow of vile sweat, the girl confused upon his actions.

"You will not fall. Not like the hawk." The boy spoke, allowing the cloth to glide along her temples and the ridge of her nose.

"Not by your own hand..." Solona had sat idle as the man had dabbed the fabric gently upon her eyes, holding them shut to avoid harm

"Not by Corypheus..." She had felt the damp material slide over her cheeks and chin, Cole carefully propping her chin up to clean her neck, touch gentle over burning skin.

"Not by illness." He had finished, setting the cloth down, the girl confused by his being in her chambers. He was not in the mode to speak, but rather...seemed interested in looking after her well being. She was not sure if that was his true intention, but she did not want him here. There were more important things he could be doing. She was not that important in the grand scheme of things. Unless...she was important to him? She did not want to dwell upon the topic for too long-it made her head hurt.

"I...thank you." She had smiled weakly, sniffing as the male youth stiffly smiled-if ever so faintly.

"You are welcome."

"I don't want to-to sound mean, but...I don't think you should be here. I don't want you to get sick, too." Solona muttered, laying down upon her side.

"But I can help...I like helping you." Her comment had caused the boy to frown, Cole rising and gingerly draping the comforters over her form.

The girl had smiled at his efforts, the blonde taking a seat beside her bed, looking upon the ground in thought for several seconds, head cocking in thought.

"...I don't know if I can get sick. I never tried."

Solona chuckled, eyes closing as she fell into slumber, no longer afraid of never being able to wake.

Cole had sat there, watching her chest slowly rise and fall with tired breathes. Slowly, his calloused fingers had caressed her face, brushing several stray strands out of her closed eyes.

"A broken body, bloody, banged on the stone cell, guts gripping in the dark dank, a captured apostate...I couldn't...I couldn't save him. But maybe, if I try...I can save you. I think...Cole would have liked you." The boy spoke, remembering and recalling before falling silent.

"I like you."

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><p>Thank you for reading and supporting! I will put up a poll that will basically be which directions the one shots will go. They can either remain in a platonic friendship, or the one shots can be based more on the romance side(which will be slow and awkward). Feel free to vote or simply let me know in PMreview. I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading and favoriting/following/reviewing!


	7. Hair

**Hi, all! I apologize for the wait and the extreme shortness of this chapter. I am busy, but I wanted to get something out. I hope you enjoy.**

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><p>She loved that little patch of platinum bang that cascaded down the very center of his brow, lightly crossing his nose and ending in a perfect point. At least to Solona it was perfect. It was the longest in length, strong and glimmering like the gentle rays of the sun.<p>

Indeed, Solona at times felt the urge to caress the little tuff with a finger, twirling and brushing to and fro, like a child lost in a whimsical fantasy. She could see his eyes curiously following her feminine finger as she manipulated him. She could not see him getting mad, or annoyed. She could just see him watching, waiting until she was done. But she would not. It was just a fantasy, something she was too cowardly to do.

Still, she had wondered what Cole's hair felt like. Wondered what it felt like to run her fingers through his hair, pale, clumsy fingers lost in an ocean of gold. However, Solona did not know why she had this urge. She had thought she dreamed of the odd boy taking care of her, the sickness toying with her mind. Now she was not so sure. If Cole had been there, she faintly remembered having her hair being brushed away. But why would the young man in leathers do that? To be nice? He was nice, very nice, she thought. Part of the young woman had wondered if Cole had felt the same way she is now-with the urge to touch and hold. Even if it is just hair. Part of her hoped so. Another part was scared. She didn't want him to know her dark thoughts. So she had been avoiding Cole.

She had heard Dorian mention Cole needed a haircut. Bad. Solona hoped he didn't get a haircut. It would change the Cole she knew-at least physically. What if she didn't recognize him anymore? What if that particular bang didn't grow back and she would never be able to touch it?

Solona sighed, shaking her head. The world was ending, and she was worried about Cole's hair. She cursed herself for being too selfish. She couldn't help it. She loved that little tuff of hair.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading and supporting! I will try a few romantic-y one shots later on, though don't really have any ideas for them. If you have any ideas feel free to let me know! <strong>


	8. Lake Luthias

Yay, a longer chapter this time! Hope you enjoy reading! I enjoy writing an awkward Solona, and Solona is very awkward in here.

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><p>Solona hummed softly to herself as she held a white lily in her two fingers, the young mage sitting upon the dock of Lake Luthias. The lily had rested upon a small offering bowl filled by the village girls, hoping the apparent spirit would grant them wishes of love by giving flowers as tribute. Solona looked at the white flower, wondering how many young hearts were cruelly crushed upon finding their wishes unanswered. She hoped not many. She knew how painful is was to be used by a man. She thought he loved her as much as she loved him. She was wrong. And she was too stupid to realize it, too dumb, not smart enough, not intelligent enough. Sometimes she wished she could be smarter. Then maybe she wouldn't be knitting or drawing or making small crafts as much out of various objects and knick knacks she found on her little misadventures. Maybe if she could study Herah enough, she could not only take her form, but magically gain her strength and intelligence as well. Demons and spirits could turn into people and animals. Solona could turn into animals. Why not people?<p>

Solona began to wonder what it would be like if she could morph into Herah. She would have horns, for one thing, and a constant bitchy scowl upon her face. She wondered what having horns felt like. Were they heavy? Could Herah sleep on her back, or would her horns gore the pillow? If she bent over enough, would Herah do a total front flip or just faceplant? Solona wondered what the world looked like from so high up. Herah was almost as tall as Bull, and towered over the blood mage. Herah was six feet and ten inches. Solona was five feet and two inches. If Solona were that tall, she wouldn't have to hurt her neck just to look up and talk to the tallest members in the Inquisition. Almost everyone was taller than her. Except Varric. But not by much. It was embarrassing, and unlike a Dwarf, she wasn't built stocky. She was lean and slender. A tragedy for Solona when she wasn't trying to look like a twig and get some muscles.

At the moment, her official nickname by Varric was Slinky. At least it wasn't Ditsy, Clumsy, Blood Mage, or Twig. Maybe she could convince the man to call her something else. Once she cracked open a book and got some more muscles. Maybe then he would change her nickname to something else.

Her lips pierced together, boots resting on the docks as her toes were tickled by the cool waters. It may have been dangerous to go out here alone, but that was okay. She knew Herah and Bull were back at the camp, resting. Solona knew they liked having time to themselves, even if it just was in a tent. And apparently liked bondage. Solona wasn't too sure if she would like that...

Her blue eyes had turned from the lily twirling within her fingers to the offering bowl, filled to the brim. Maybe the girls would have gotten their wishes if they had chosen dandelions instead? Solona wasn't sure. All she knew was that these lilies were picked for no reason. Until now.

_He loves me..._

Her finger had gently plucked a petal from the flower, feeling childish at thinking this. She had a beautiful lily in her hand, and the first thing she did was play a stupid, childish game.

_He loves me not..._

She plucked a second petal, musing. It was a joke. A joke on herself, more like it. She had no one that was interested in her, and that was okay. At least she had her dreams and childish fantasies she never seemed to outgrow. And if the flowers said 'no', she could always cheat and make them say 'yes'.

"He loves me...He loves me not...He loves me...He loves me...not..." Her brow creased slightly as a frown fell upon her face, hitting the last petal.

"Who loves you not?"

"Damn it, Cole!" Solona jumped, heart starting into overdrive at the man she did not know was even there-or for how long. She had thrown the petals into the lake, as if to hide her shame, legs jerking and water spritzing as she turned to face him. Sure enough, the boy in leathers was there, standing behind her as if he had been there for quite a long time. Cole's lips, however, were molded into a slight frown, as if he had done something wrong.

"I'm sorry, Solona."

The young woman had mimicked his facial expression, "No, it's fine, Cole. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you. I shouldn't have. You just scared me, that's all."

"I didn't mean to..." Cole murmured, Solona rising from her seat on the docks, the wood warmed from the sun and beginning to burn her drying feet as she hopped from one foot to the other, "...are you alright?"

"The wood is hot on my feet. The water feels good on them. Did you ever put your feet in the water?" The young woman questioned, the blonde shaking his head.

"No. I don't know if I can swim. I never tried."

Solona's eyes turned white at the confession, "Never, ever?"

"No, never. Is that strange?" The boy asked, Solona biting her lip, as if in thought, "No...but what if we go on a ship and it sinks and you can't swim? You would drown! I can try and teach you, if you want, I mean." She cleared her throat, Cole remaining quiet, as if in thought.

"How does one swim?" Cole questioned, curious as he looked upon the girl through platinum strands before his gaze had fallen to the floating petals.

"Well...ummm...here, first sit down and put your feet in the water, okay? When you swim, sometimes your feet won't be able to touch the bottom, so it will feel like floating. Or flying. But...in water..." Solona felt herself flush, wishing she were better at explaining as she felt a line of sweat run down her temple. The mage had then sat down and once more submerged her feet in the soothing water, smiling.

Cole had meandered towards her, kneeling to carefully move the offering bowl and set it down at a distance. He had then sat next to her, and put his feet in the water. Solona smiled, and then twitched slightly at what she saw, "...Um...I guess I should have told you to take your boots off..."

"Oh. Sorry." Cole murmured, rising his knees so that his feet rested upon the dock's edge, water spilling on the wood, "I'm not very good at this."

"No, it's alright. It was my fault." Solona cleared her throat as she leaned closer towards him, fingers undoing the buckles of a boot as the young man worked on the other. She did not know why, but she found her face heating up, boiling like a fire was under her skin. She felt like the boy was perhaps judging her, and in her growing nervousness had fumbled clumsily with the boot. It didn't help that he had already taken his off and was waiting for her.

"Th...These buckles are...tricky..." Solona babbled, knowing she should keep quiet, shut her mouth, but the words spilled forth in a jumble of mindless blabber, "Do you have trouble with them? I mean...of course you don't. You always take them on and off and on and off. Unless you have trouble with them...In which they are tricky...the...buckles..." She had felt like the heat was burning her face almost painfully, heart hammering as she began to sweat. By this point her fingers were shaking in nervousness and fumbling even worse with the simple task.

"Do you need help? I can help." Cole offered, the mage's throat going dry as she tried to speak, to protest, but couldn't find her voice as his fingers reached around his knee and lightly brushed against her own clumsy fingers as he worked on the straps. His boot was off rather swiftly, his fingers far nimbler than hers when appointed with a task. Her fingers were still shaking. If Cole mentioned something, she didn't hear. She didn't look at him.

The boy had now placed his naked feet into the water, Solona staring off into nothing, perhaps at the petals on the surface, now farther away.

"I wonder how far down it goes? Can my feet touch the bottom if I stand?" Cole questioned aloud, curiosity taking hold as his toes wiggled in the waters below, gentle waves sloshing at the docks.

"I dont think so. That's how people drown." Solona commented, legs lightly kicking back and forth, "I'm going in."

"In?" The boy questioned, concern in his voice.

"The water, silly goose." The young woman replied, thinking that maybe she should shed some clothing, but then thought against it, face heating at the thought. She didn't want to embarrass herself, expose herself.

"I...am not a goose." The blonde stated slowly, as if confused. Cole had watched Solona from her perch, arms bracing to push herself into the depths below. He felt his chest clench with paranoia and fear. What if something happened and she went under, down, down into the liquid abyss? What if she jumped in and never came back up? He wouldn't be able to help her. How could he help her if he didn't even know how to swim? Saving her from trying to fly was one thing, but saving her from water when he couldn't swim was another.

Solona had readied herself to fall into the lake, but yelped as she felt strong arms wrap around her stomach and pull her further upon the dock, the mage's limbs flailing uselessly against the stronger force. Solona found herself smooshed against Cole's form, and try as she might, she couldn't break his grip, "Ahh! Cole! What are you doing?!" Solona cried, wiggling in vain.

"Saving you from the water. I can't save your from the water if I can't swim." Cole replied, as if his answer were that simple.

"T...That's why I have to teach you...by swimming!" She tried to slip his grip, wiggling farther down, but his hold help fast, "Fine! Fine! You saved me from the water! You saved me! I won't jump in alone, okay? Let's...Let's do it together, okay, Cole?"

"By jumping in?"

"No. By the shore. Now can you not crush me? Please?" Solona begged, sighing in relief as she felt his hold die, arms releasing her, "Thank you."

Cole frowned, watching Solona rise, "I am sorry."

"Oh, don't worry about it, okay? Come on, now. I want to teach you while we still have daylight." Solona smiled, trying to avoid getting splinters in her feet as Cole slowly rose and followed.

"What is wrong with night light?" The boy questioned, the pair reaching the the cool grass and soon wet earth, the water sloshing lazily at the sediment.

"I can't see at night." The mage replied, holding out her hand for him to take, and upon holding his hand, realized how disgustingly sweaty hers was. And how tiny her hands were compared to his large, calloused hands. But if he felt the sweat, he didn't voice it.

The woman smiled as she gently led him deeper into the water, step by step sinking them further into the waves. Cole was fine until the water reached his neck, and it was obvious he was straining to keep his feet against the falling earth. Solona had to swim to keep herself afloat, far too short to reach the depths he could stand. She could hear his breathing increase to an almost hyperventilation level, eyes wide underneath blonde strands.

"It's okay, Cole. I'm here. You're going to have to kick your feet to stay above the water, okay? I'll help you." She cooed, hoping to cox him into the deeper water. Still, she worried if he panicked and sank. She wasn't sure she could hoist him above the water, or drag him to the shore.

"I...I don't want to sink, sink and never reach the bottom." The boy whimpered, on the verge of panicking, Solona putting herself next to him, squeezing his hand.

"You won't sink, Cole, okay? I will help you, okay? If you get scared, tell me and I'll help you. I won't let you sink. We'll just stay right here near the shore, won't go out in the middle, okay?" Solona spoke, Cole nodding slowly, breath hitching in his throat, "O-Okay."

Solona smiled, spitting out water as some ran into her mouth whilst speaking. Cole's feet had failed to touch solid ground, his breath hitching as he began to panic, gaze wild.

"It's okay! Kick, kick your legs! Back and forth, back and forth!" The girl suggested, Cole gripping her shoulder in fear, body pressing against hers, "Ahh! Cole, it's okay! It's okay!"

Solona worried his weight would plunge her into the water, legs working to keep them afloat, his hot breath in short gasps falling on her skin, "It's okay, Cole! Just listen to me. Just keep kicking, kicking, kicking, not too fast, not too slow."

Cole's breath slowly began to calm, Solona feeling him fall lax as he remained afloat with her.

"Good! Good! You can do it, you can swim!" The girl cheered, the young man smiling slightly

"You ready?"

"F...For what?" The boy questioned, Solona smiling. She broke herself from his grip, causing Cole to sink farther into the water, eyes wide once more as his legs kicked and arms flailed. Cole's breath came out in short, swift gasps, skin pale, spitting water from his mouth.

"It's okay, Cole. Look what you're doing! You're swimming, Cole! You're swimming!" Solona beamed, watching the boy stay afloat without aid.

"S...Swimming?"

"Yes, swimming! I knew you could do it!" The girl smiled, laughing.

Slowly, a small smile grew upon Cole's face, a strangled laugh escaping his throat, "Y-Yes! I...I am! I am swimming! I am swimming and not sinking into the blackness!"

"Yay for Cole!" The woman cheered, lightly splashing the boy, causing him to spit water out of his open mouth, "Hey!" It was then the odd boy did something Solona never thought he would do. Cole splashed back.

Solona squealed, high pitched and girlish, nothing short of embarrassing as she splashed back, resulting in a tiny water war, which had subsided as swiftly as it arrived, the pair retreating to the shore.

"Cole, wait. How can you see?" The mage questioned, the young man turning towards her, water to their waists.

"With my eyes." Cole stated, Solona shaking her head, approaching him and gingerly brushing the heavy bangs from his face, "No, silly. With all that hair over your eyes."

It was then she realized she had touched his hair, which was wet yet soft, tickling her fingers. She also realized how blue his eyes were, not hidden by those bangs and that tuff of hair she loved so much. She had to fight not to stare, butterflies in her stomach, "You...You have amazing eyes."

"I have...amazing eyes?" Cole echoed, Solona nodding, looking away.

"Yes. You do. But...umm...my fingers are pruny. Are yours pruny, too?" She questioned, showing the man her fingers to break the awkwardness, which were wrinkly. Cole looked at them in curiosity, his fingers the same as hers.

"Oh, yes. But, thank you, Solona. I was swimming! I swam! And all because of you! Thank you!" He smiled stiffly, waterlogged with dirt and grass sticking to their feet as they returned to the dock for their boots.

Solona smiled, "You are welcome. I'm glad I could help you. It was fun."

Cole nodded, silently agreeing, "Solona...you never answered my question."

A frown graced her lips, the girl turning to him, "What was your question, Cole?"

"Who loves you not?"

Solona cleared her throat, "No one, Cole. No one."

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><p>So I tried a romantic approach(kind of). What do you guys think? I'm still not sure what to do after this, but I'll think of something eventually. I've been thinking of writing a confrontation with Corypheus, but I don't think that would go well(or if they would get out alive). Either way, thank you for reading and supporting!<p> 


	9. The Nug and The Fennec

**Hello! Here's another short chapter, but I had this in my mind for a while. I hope you enjoy!**

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><p>The youths had taken the time to allow their water soaked clothes to dry as much as possible before choosing to return to the local camp just down yonder. Solona smiled, happy that she taught Cole to swim. Or at least stay afloat and not drown. Maybe she could find a hollowed out log and use that as a lifeboat in case he ever did panic and start to drown. That would be bad. She wondered what drowning felt like.<p>

Whilst walking down the beaten path, Cole's head had snapped off to gaze off the path and into the sparse trees, footfalls slowly pausing in stride. The mage noticed and stopped a few feet ahead, turning around to see where his sight had fallen. When she had looked in the general direction, she had seen nothing. Just trees and a ram grazing lazily.

"Is something wrong, Cole?" Solona questioned, the man's head twitching, as if broken from a trance.

"Something is in pain. There." He had replied, pointing just over a gently sloping hill, the woman following the indication with her eyes.

"Can you lead us to it?" She asked, Cole simply nodding and walking into the wilderness, the girl following. They had walked not a great distance before hearing the soft clicks of a nug, occasional high squeaks of a distress call cutting through the air followed with the cackling of a fennec.

The pair had gotten to the top of the small slope to see a fennec pursuing a wounded nug, flanks bleeding so that the tiny creature could not flee. The nug had backed itself against the hard bark of an oak, the fennec snapping its jowls as it would try to faint an attack and strike when the harmless mammal tried to block. The nug had tried to move it's large head to avoid the fox, though its ears had flopped in the way, which had been clamped upon by the attacking fennec. Shrill cries and angry growls filled the air, the small predator so enraptured in the hunt it did not notice the girl approach in swift and heavy footfalls. Upon feeling the shadow of a possible threat approach, the hunter had swiftly abandoned the the struggling nug, the fox cackling and running into the underbrush.

"Oh, the poor thing!" Solona gasped, the nug squirming in panic, clicking and calling, tears torn and legs spouting blood, perhaps still believing the predator was near, yet its eyes were far too weak to tell. The girl frowned, gently petting the hairless bunny pig to try and calm it, and by nature, the docile creature did calm upon realizing the fennec was gone. It did not, however, stop the tiny nug from shaking in fear.

"There, there...you're safe now. No one will hurt you." The young woman cooed gently, though had looked towards Cole, "Will it be alright?"

"The wounds are deep...it hurts. But you help the hurts, big and small. It will not die. All it sees are teeth and pain." The boy replied, the mage frowning.

"Poor little nug...if only I had a cloth to wrap it up and carry it."

"Back to camp?" Cole asked, Solona nodding.

"Yes. I want to help it." She replied, the boy staying quiet for several seconds before nodding to himself, "I can carry it."

Solona had turned towards him, hands still caressing the nug's hide, feminine hands wet with blood, "But you will get blood on you. See?" She had raised her hands to show him. The tiny creature had no longer breathed with ragged breaths.

"That's okay. I want to help." Cole replied, slowly approaching and kneeling besides the girl. The nug had shrunk back upon noticing the approach of another, though could not run. Gently did Cole wrap his arms around the wounded creature, which had fallen slack in his arms, clicking softly.

"You saved its life. I'm proud of you." Solona smiled, the young man returning the gesture, if however slightly.

"Yes, we did." Cole replied, the pair walking back towards the warn road, the mage keeping her eyes upon the nug, which had nuzzled into the boy's nape, "I like nugs. Everything is bigger than they, but they are still content, harmless but happy. If they nuzzle your hand, then they are calling you a friend."

"I think that one loves you, then." Solona chuckled slightly, falling quiet in thought, "I shall name him Mr. Floofools."

"Mr. Floofools? A name that was your friend. And then he wasn't."

The blood mage nodded, "Yes. Mr. Floofools was a field mouse I used to play with when I was younger. Then he turned into a demon."

"He was still your friend."

"He was." She smiled, reaching over to pet the nug's head, "Don't worry, Mr. Floofools. You can rest at camp, yes you can!" Solona cooed, Mr. Floofools' ears flopping, torn and bloody.

The pair had walked the downward slope to their camp, the unmistakable outlines of Bull and Herah in the distance, no doubt waiting for the pair. When Cole and Solona approached, Herah's violet eyes looked from Cole, whose shirt was now stained and bloody from holding the injured nug, to Solona, then to rest upon the bunny pig in Cole's arms.

Solona smiled. Herah shook her head, fighting the urge to smack her forehead.

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><p><strong>Poor Mr. Floofools. I have one more one shot in mind, and it involves jealously. Though I can't see Cole getting jealous-at all. Or maybe he can. Who knows, if he turns more human. I'm not sure how far their romance would go, but as of now I cannot see it going to full sexual intimacy. By God, if anything Solona is in the first flushes of romance. Cole, I don't know. I can't see him instigating, let alone properly understanding a romantic relationship(fully). And Solona wouldn't know how to act because she doesn't know how he'll react(nor if it is wanted or if she is just fooling herself). So you have one jumbled mess of friendship and romantic awkwardness(at least for Solona).<br>**

**I'm glad that so many people followed and favorited(sp?) this little thing. Despite the lack of reviews, that's okay. I'll keep writing whatever little story comes to mind. The next one shot will most likely involve Krem. I've also been thinking of adding in character death in later chapters, but we'll see about that. Either way, enough babbling. Thank you for reading/supporting/following/favorite-ing and/or reviewing! **


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